Misfortunate Children
by CitrusyGoddess
Summary: What if Tate raped Violet instead of Vivian? She believes the incident to be a nightmare and meets Tate, a boy determined to 'cure' her. Soon they develop romantic feelings for each other but what happens when she finds out the identity of the rubber man?
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Misfortunate Children**

**Summary: What if Tate raped Violet instead of Vivian? Violet doesn't know the identity of the Rubber Man and soon finds a friend in Tate Langdon. But romantic feelings develop and she doesn't know how to cope with intimacy. Tate watches as the girl he loves realises she's pregnant, but, he must stop her from discovering the truth. (Bloody hell I suck at summarys.) **

__**Well, this idea came into my head today and I just HAD to write it down. It took like 2 hours. I really hope you enjoy and want me to continue, my first proper AHS fanficcy, (I have done a HP/AHS crossover but this is the first time truly for Tate/Violet so I hope I do them and you justice) :)**

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><p><em>Chapter One <em>

He had promised her, promised to provide her with what she craved most. A baby to replace the one she had been robbed of.

No matter the cost.

No matter who gets hurt.

It didn't _matter_ that the older female of the new family was currently away because a more youthful one had staid. He hadn't seen the girl yet, but he would, just moments before he defiles her with his seed.

Tate Langdon's hands shook as he snatched the rubber suit from the wall; at least whilst the outfit was on Tate could pretend it was a costume, that everything he has done and will do in this _costume_ wasn't him, but another character who he had to play.

He clambered out of his regular clothes, his jeans fell to the floor and he kicked them aside, his boxers soon followed and he viciously tore his t-shirt off, breaking it in the process. He swore quietly.

He gazed at himself in the full length mirror, inhaling several deep breaths of unneeded oxygen as he contemplated what he was about to commit.

_-I've done so much wrong in this world already._

_-The world is a filthy place. It will always be full of shit and piss. Your actions won't make it worse because that isn't possible. _

_-I've taken innocent lives, but, I've never raped before. I'll be stealing a young girl's virginity unwillingly. I will truly become a monster._

_-The monster is this house, its hell, but you can do this for the only mother figure you've ever had. You can't disappoint her. You promised her. _

_-Your right. I have no choice. _

Tate stared at his body, terrified that this would be the last time he would look human, afterwards he could turn green, hair might grow into fur and his teeth could be replaced with sharp glistening fangs that would constantly be coated in a deep scarlet.

"Don't get all chicken shit about this," Tate muttered to himself and his reflection slowly gained confidence, a smile forming on its face before he put on the mask and, with steady hands, he zipped it up.

He became the rubber man; the character that consumed him each time he put on the 'costume'.

Tate grabbed the door knob and twisted it, moving down the hallway stealthily until he came to the girl's door. His hand rose, palm touching the surface but he halted when he heard the music of Kurt Cobain humming from inside.

He shook his head, ridding himself of guilty thoughts before he pushed the door open and walked inside.

* * *

><p>(<em>One week later)<em>

The razor sliced her delicate skin, blood weld from the wound and slowly spilled down Violet Harmon's arm, it clattered softly on her bedroom floor and she smiled sleepily as she felt the pain.

She'd been having the nightmares for a week now; they were always the same, starting with her laying on her bed, dressed in her baggy white nightgown, eyes closed, listening to the sounds of Kurt Cobain, her feet moving occasionally with the rhythm whilst she tries to escape the world.

But then hands would clamp hers, rooting her to place. But she's weak. She can't escape. And then, everything goes black.

Violet hates weakness, she never used to display fear, but now she's terrified of sleeping, of leaving herself open to her subconscious.

She stands from the bed, already in her day-time clothing; she never wears her pyjamas anymore.

She steps gingerly outside to the hallway and can immediately hear noises from upstairs, her Dad's soft reassuring voice trailing down to her and she sighed, wishing that she didn't feel hatred whenever anything related to him was present.

_He must be entertaining another nut job. _

Footsteps echo from the stairs and Violet immediately rushes to the bathroom opposite her room.

She hates strangers.

People are shit.

The razor's still stuck to her bloody palm and she lifts it, cutting again, creating a new scar next to a multiple of previous ones.

She holds her breath in excitement and waits for the agony that's soon to follow.

"Self mutilation," A voice states behind her and she turns round instantly to face a boy whose facial expression is blank.

She shivers as she takes in his appearance, his blonde messy hair, his almost black eyes and she gets the notion that he's familiar. But she waves it aside because that would be impossible, insane.

Violet Harmon would not let insanity cling to her and claim her as its own.

She remained silent and slowly moved her hand to her back, obscuring the razor from the boy's view. But he didn't seem to notice, his eyes were fixed on her face.

* * *

><p>Tate stared at her bloodshot eyes and parting mouth which couldn't form words. He refused to look at the blood which he knew was running down her arm, dripping off her hand and landing drop by drop on the marble white floor.<p>

Guilt washed over him and he almost took a step back.

_-I've broken her._

_-Guilt is a useless emotion. What is done is done._

_-I didn't realise she was this…this…..pure…this….perfect. I never even saw her face when it happened, when I did what I did._

_-See? Guilt is useless. You may not even have raped her. _

Tate breathed out a relieved sigh as he realised that his subconscious could be right. He had never seen the teenagers face, he couldn't bear himself to look at it, knowing it would be covered with fear and tears.

"Save me the lecture," She snarled, immediately snapping him away from his thoughts; she imitated the voice of a psychiatrist, sounding shockingly like her father, "Self mutilation is wrong and sinful and pathetic. And I shouldn't do it because I can be so much better in life."

His negative emotions were pushed to the back of his mind as he stared at the interesting beauty before him. The one filled with so much sadness and he made it his new mission to _cure_ her.

She crossed her arms over her chest defensively whilst Tate raised his arms, her eyebrows rose as he moved his sleeves back to reveal faint scars caused by the misery that had once inflicted him.

Her arms fell to her sides and she took a cautious step towards him, observing the millions of cuts that covered his arms.

He stood rigid to the spot, not even breathing, but she didn't notice. Her attention was enraptured by finding someone similar, someone that could understand her.

"What's your name?" Violet enquired, resisting the urge to trace the boy's cuts with her fingers.

"Tate."

"I'm Violet."

She glanced up at Tate, and he smiled down at her, his eyes locking with hers and, for just a moment, they were normal teenagers.

"I don't do it anymore," Tate muttered, looking almost regretful as Violet took a step away from him, retreating away from the disguised monster.

"How come?" She whispered, wishing that she had the same strength as the boy before her, the one that had entered the darkness and recovered.

"No point. It wasn't helping me. The scars just remind me of how weak I was now."

She considered it and nodded along, finally agreeing with his perspective, but he couldn't understand that she needed and _craved_ the scarlet droplets and the hurt they provided her with.

She wanted to invite him into her room, play him music from her stereo and see if he has similar taste to hers, she would like the company.

But, something was stopping her, every time her mouth opened to ask him it closed again as flashes of her nightmare presented themselves before her.

A rubber suit.

Hand's restricting hers.

Her ripped nightgown in the corner of her room.

The blood pooling around her thighs.

The voice of Kurt Cobain singing in the background.

She just managed to stop her fists from hitting her head to force the images out, to keep away the horror that was seeping in to her mind.

She would be like Tate. She would be strong, so she invited him to her room and he seemed to hesitate, but only for a moment until he asked her to lead the way.

20 minutes later Tate was sitting on the floor, flicking through Violet's CD albums, amazed that he recognised at least three quarter's of the artists. He was impressed with her already; her music taste was extraordinary; _she _was extraordinary.

-_I'm just an evil entity doomed to stalk her for eternity. _

Violet sat a safe distance away from the boy, and her bed, occupying a chair opposite him. She tried not to beam as he complimented her and shifted her chair forward slightly.

"Do you go to the school near here?" She asked, begging mentally that the answer was yes. She already felt safe around him. He would protect her from the materialistic girls that would haunt and torment her.

He took a moment to form an appropriate answer, one that would impress her, "No, got kicked out. Those idiots that roam the halls can't tell their homework from their anus. Apparently, if you cause a little bit of conflict you aren't good enough to be one of them."

"Why? What did you?"

Violet leaned forward in her chair and now their faces were only inches apart. He smirked at her, prolonging the moment, finding an excuse to stare at her some more.

"My sister has 'special needs'," Tate air quoted nastily and rolled his eyes, "Those shit faces believed that just because they were 'normal' they were allowed to treat her as you would a common dog."

Violet wanted to make a sympathetic remark but knew already that Tate wouldn't appreciate it so she simply said, "That sucks. Give a person a negative label and everyone else believes they can treat them like piss. It ain't right."

He smiled at her sweetly and took her hands, and Violet relaxed at his touch. It seeped warmth into her body, penetrating her, almost making her forget about the nightmares.

"Why are you shivering?" Tate asked softly, staring down at their entwined fingers, his steady ones, and her constant shaking ones.

Violet's eyes widened in shock and she hastily withdrew herself from his and leant as far back in her chair as she could. She refused to answer his question despite that he waited patiently, as blame pressed itself on him, just as he had once pressed himself on to her.

His attention went back to her piles of CD's and he picked one up randomly, the back of it was smashed, as if she had violently thrown it across the room and he laughed softly, imagining it to contain noise from a boy band - who shouldn't be labelled as music artists - that she had been given as a present from her weak minded father, the one upstairs who truly believed him to be 'psychologically damaged.'

He flicked it over and almost dropped it when he saw Kurt Cobain's face.

He quickly glanced up at the young girl and was relieved when she didn't find his action at all strange.

"I know," She sighed, "Kurt Cobain is a legend and I shouldn't treat his album like that, but his voice brings back so many….._nightmares."_

Tate nodded quickly, wanting to distract from her subject, wanting to forget about that night one week ago when he had changed her from a divine being to a death carrier.

_-I'm truly disgusting. _

_-She's classified the experience as a nightmare. You must be awful in bed. _

-_She can't ever find out it was real._

_-What do you think is going to happen dip shit when she finds out she's pregnant?_

_-She can't ever find out it was me._

_-An hour with her and your already regretting what you did for Nora? Your right, you are disgusting. _

_-Violet radiates light._

_-You've dimmed that light; it will turn into darkness soon. It will soon become worse then you._

Violet waved her hand in front of Tate, he had zoned out again just as he had done in the bathroom.

"Am I really that boring that you have to day dream when around me?"

His head snapped up straight away and he grabbed her hand, pulling her towards him. She stifled a scream. This was not her nightmare. This was a teenage boy trying to reassure her.

"You could never bore me."

His hand remained on hers again, but, this time the atmosphere had changed, his desperation to reassure her frightened her and something about his touch was familiar.

He grasped her hand harder, wanting her to speak to him, hoping that she would tell him that he's being an idiot and hadn't offended her, but, her eyes swept over all of his body, it was almost as if she was observing him.

Trying to identify him.

"Tate," She whispered, "I recognise you," She took in a deep breath, "You _feel _familiar."


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, wow, eeek! Yippee! Yayyy! The response to my first chapter was overwhelming! That's the most reviews I've ever got! Thank you to those who have reviewed and are following this story, without you guys this chapter wouldn't have been up for like the next week. I got down to writing this yesterday and knew I had to finish it for you all, I can not thank you enough, please continue to stick with me and R&R. **

******God, I rewatched episode 11 the other day. With a box of tissues. The box was empty by the end of the episode. ANYWAY thought I'd tell you that and now, on with the story! **

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><p>He held his breath, instantly releasing her hand and becoming rigid, expecting her to scream, to slap him, to call for her Dad and tell him what sort of a lunatic his client really was.<p>

But she didn't.

Her eyebrows rose up at him and an awkward laugh burst from her lips, "God, I'm sorry, I'm so weird. I'm usually not this weird, well, actually, I suppose I am, oh I'm mumbling now aren't I?"

He stared at her, his posture becoming more relaxed but when she waved a hand in front of his face to get his attention he recoiled and stood up.

She remained on the floor, staring at him quizzically, her head cocked to one side and a look of disappointment settling into her face.

Neither of them spoke for several agonisingly slow moments but Violet noticed Tate's eyes always wondering to her door and she gave an exasperated sigh, "If you want to leave just leave. No one's making you stay here with a _freak_."

His eyes held sorrow and a tinge of anger, "Just because those sluts at other schools have called you that doesn't instantly mean that you are. You're smarter then that. You know you are."

"In a rather pathetic way," She whispered, "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

His hands balled into fists at his side as he tried to keep his anger about the outside world in check, "Well no one's exactly praising me," He said and smiled at her before walking to the door.

Tate grasped the handle –

_-Your hands were coated in blood the last time you touched that. Virgin blood, innocent blood that you tainted. _

Violet watched as his hands reacted violently to the door, whipping away from it and making him stagger back as if he had received an exceedingly painful electric shock.

_-You two will make delightful parents, a rapist and a cutter, both deceased. You could write baby books. _

His hand's rose shakily to his head and Tate just managed to refrain himself from hitting them against his skull to rid himself of the voices inflicted with darkness.

_-Both deceased? Violet isn't dead. _

_-Not yet she isn't. But when your reincarnated devil spawn rips her to shreds she will be._

His hands clawed at the door handle and he threw the door wide open and ran into the hallway, vanishing from Violet's sight.

"Drama Queen," She muttered, wondering what his problem was, he had seemed genuinely intrigued by her.

She had believed herself to have found a kindred spirit, but, she had scared him away just as she had every other single human being.

She retrieved her pack of cigarettes from the desk by her bed and sat on the window ledge, lighting one and bringing it to her lips, she blew the smoke onto the window and the reflection became blurred.

Just like her mind.

* * *

><p>The second Tate stepped out of her room he willed himself to become invisible before tearing down the hallway, his hands grabbed the banister and he swung himself wildly onto the staircase and then ran down it, taking two stairs at a time, his footsteps echoing loudly on each one.<p>

It felt like forever until he had finally reached his destination.

The basement.

It was true, he hated it down there, but it contained the most psychotic of the ghosts whose 'chemical imbalance had gone wrong' and, he needed a particular one.

He wanted to scream the Doctor's name but knew it would do him no good.

The ghost's down here didn't obey to commands.

It didn't take Tate long to find Charles, smoke wafted up his nostrils and he held in a cough before following the lazy tendrils of grey.

Doctor Charles had one of Violet's cigarettes between his teeth; he nodded in welcome to Tate but otherwise didn't move from his seat in the middle of the empty room.

-_How dare he take something of Violet's! He's a god damn thief. He should rot in hell._

_-Virginity or a cigarette? Personally he's done her no great injustice. _

Tate almost screamed, his nails dug into his palms but the darkness was right. Charles wasn't the sinful one where Violet was concerned.

"Ahh, the popular Mr Langdon," Charles smiled sarcastically, "I would offer you a seat but I wouldn't even if there was one."

Tate rolled his eyes, "Cut the bullshit Doc, you know what I've done. I can see it on you, the disgust in your eyes, the anger in your body. Tell me," Tate leaned forward, "Did you enjoy watching like some sick pervert?"

"I don't understand how you can classify _me _as the sick one," Charles said, flicking the cigarette away from him to land in an ashy pile at Tate's feet, "But let me try to understand your predicament. You raped the newest and _youngest _resident-"

"Correct," Tate muttered, all arrogance gone from his voice as he stared at his shoes.

"-You regret said evil action-"

"Correct."

"You have developed feelings for the _child _you deflowered-"

"Yes."

"-Now you want the foetus to vanish and because I used to perform abortions I'm the man to do it?"

"Yes."

The Doctor howled with laughter, throwing back his head to let the vibrations of the victorious sounds crash against the wall. Tate leaned against the wall, keeping his composure, ridding himself of negativity before Charles finally stopped.

"My answer is no, I no longer perform abortions. Not after what happened to my own flesh and blood."

"I haven't hurt you," Tate muttered, "Your one of the only ghosts in this house I haven't abused, don't make me start now."

"Do not threaten me boy!" The Doctor roared, charging towards Tate who remained where he was, an eyebrow raised as if he found Charles reactions amusing instead of frustrating, "That foetus upstairs is for my wife. I am the one who should provide her with a child, not you! It should be me!"

Charles anger boiled over the surface as he grabbed Tate's shoulder and roughly pushed him backwards, his head hit the wall with a crack and blood dripped down his face but he still remained impassive.

"She'll _die,_" The Doctor hissed and Tate flinched, wanting to break out of his iron grip, "That _thing _you created together _forcefully_ will rip her flesh apart, her heart will give out and she'll be no more."

Tate's breath hitched, his eyes searching the Doctor's face looking for any signs of sympathy.

He found none.

"Get her to an abortion clinic, otherwise, you better hope she dies in this house Tate Langdon," Charles whispered in his ear before vanishing.

Tate's head's fell in his hands as he slithered down the dirty wall, hitting the floor with a thump before rolling over to his side and hitching his legs up to his chin.

Just like a foetus.

* * *

><p>(<em>2 days later)<em>

_I have to tell her. I need to get her to the abortion clinic._

_You'll kill your own child._

_That abomination isn't mine._

_It's your seed. It's her child to. Kill it and you'll murder something that belongs to both of you. Your only opportunity for a child. You're only opportunity to be a father. You could have a family._

_Her mortality is more precious then my selfish desires._

The darkness held its serpent forked tongue and for once Tate felt a small victory against it. He had defeated it; Violet had _made _him defeat it. She was truly the light.

He rounded the corner of the house and was convinced that he would spill all, he would live up to the consequences as long as he saved her; it would be the only thing worthy of redemption he could accomplish.

Her pain would be worth her life.

He found her sitting on the porch, her hands wrapped around her legs, she looked so small, so fragile, and he knew he would be the cause of her breaking.

He carefully approached her, her back was to him, and he reached in his pocket for the letter he had written all his misdeeds down on, not just the rape, but, _everything._

He had known her one dreadful night and one glorious afternoon but he was drawn to her already, wanting to protect her from the demons inside of him.

The letter was supposed to scare her, frighten her away from him, from the house in general and convince her and her parents to leave and never come back.

No matter how much that broke his still un-beating heart.

But then he heard her sobbing. Cries rippling through her body, making her appear to be a wave full of sad emotions.

He returned the letter to his pocket and forgot all about it as he crouched down next to her. He moved her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ears, if she was shocked by his sudden appearance she didn't show it and he admired her bravery.

Her tears instantly stopped as she gazed at him, a small smile forming on her face, "I didn't think you'd return."

Her instant change in extreme emotions made him beam with pride; he had been the cause of such sweet feelings, of replacing her darkness with light.

"First day of school?" He asked, guessing that the cause would of course be idiotic high-schoolers.

She nodded glumly before composing herself, "I _hate _teenage girls. They dress as slags. Ridicule everyone else. And…." She leaned closer to him just as he had 2 days ago, his attention completely entranced by her, "….they seriously hate it when you spit in their face."

Tate burst into uncontrollable laughter, staring at Violet with obvious affection before she became uncomfortable under his stare and searched for her cigarettes. She flipped the packet open and frowned when she realised quite a few were missing.

-_Maybe it's the stress; I've just had way more then I thought._

As she brought the cigarette to her lips Tate haltered her movements. She froze under his disapproving stare.

Tate hated the reason behind his judgement. It was barbaric, disgusting, it wasn't _natural. _

-_Oh Tatey-pooo, you're worried about your baby? Thought you wanted it gone. _

_-If she had the baby here we could raise it, she'd be mine forever. I want a perfect family. _

_-Your no better then Constance._

Violet watched as Tate snapped out of his day dream once more, she wondered if that was the reason he was seeing her father, to overcome his trouble of staying in reality.

She made a mental note to check later.

The disapproving glimmer behind his eyes had vanished and she started to think she'd imagined it, because that was the way everyone else looked at her when she lighted one up. But Tate wasn't like everyone else.

He was like her.

She opened her mouth to ask him to come inside, her parents were out and she had the whole house to herself, maybe she could see if he was brave enough to enter the basement.

But her words stopped in her throat as she watched his warm black eyes cloud over into an icy glare and followed it to realise that it was directed to an elderly blonde woman across the street, Violet's own eyes widened in recognition, the woman was her neighbour. Constance she swore her mum had told her the woman's name was.

Constance wore a goofy expression on her face, something mixed with excitement and shock, and her hand rose to wave but when Tate moved his face towards Violet to block her out it fell back to her side.

"You have issues with Constance?" Violet asked under her breath and when Tate didn't reply she let the matter drop.

Constance's face didn't falter or look rejected as she walked determinedly to her house, a girl with black hair following close behind her. When the girl's eye's landed on the two teenagers on the porch she ran towards them.

Violet watched as Tate rose in greeting, his face stretching to accommodate a welcoming smile but Constance's sharp voice stopped the girl from reaching him. She froze on the stairs and turned to her mother.

"Addy child don't interrupt them," She shouted sternly then in a much quieter tone uttered, "Always pushing yourself onto those who don't want you."

Violet's mouth dropped open in shock from the mother's total disregard of her daughter's feelings but Addy didn't seem to care, instead she turned to face Violet and Tate and beamed at them.

"But Mum, look! Tate's found a pretty girl!"

Violet was taken aback by the statement; she had never been referred to as that before. The comments about her appearance were always patronising or rude, never complimentary and she immediately warmed to the girl and gave her a smile.

Tate laughed as he watched Addy run back to Constance and the two disappeared into the house.

"You _found _a pretty girl?" Violet asked, leaning back and watching him lazily, "Was that your mission in life?"

Tate rolled his eyes at her, "Addy was only stating the truth."

Violet's cheeks warmed and Tate longed to touch the blush that coated them, it took him only a second before he gained enough courage to reach his hand towards her face. His fingers hovered just an inch away from her, almost asking her permission.

Violet started to lean into his palm but suddenly images and emotions filled her –

_Pain._

_A pair of hands pushing her legs apart_

_Sadness._

_Unwilling tears sliding down her cheeks._

_Longing._

_Moans escaping behind the rubber mask._

_Perversion. _

_Regret._

Before Tate's hands managed to touch her she flinched away, a scream trapped in her throat and tears welling in her eyes.

He looked shocked and slightly ashamed; she wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that she couldn't be touched, not at the moment, maybe perhaps ever.

But her breathing was coming to fast and the world started to spin, Tate's face went blurry as it came towards her, the sound of his shouting frantic voice repeating itself to her over and over as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, "I'm sorry! Oh god Violet I'm so sorry! Don't go! Don't leave me, I promise I'll cure you. Violet, forgive me!"

Before she blacked out one thought entered her mind, _what does he have to be sorry for? Did he do this to me? _


	3. Chapter 3

**Rewatched AHS the other day...** **why, oh why Tate did you have to be the rubber man? ... I would have preffered if it was Constance tbh...(and yep..I know that would be genetically impossible..but..who knows ;)**

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><p>"Does Tate love pretty girl?" Addy enquired, watching her mother grab the flour from the top cupboard elegantly.<p>

Constance poured the flour into the mixing bowl and contemplated ignoring her daughter, but when she finally looked at Addy she relented.

"Of course not silly girl, your brother doesn't love, you know that."

Addy shook her head violently; opening her mouth to protest but her mother slammed her fist against the table and Addy's mouth automatically shut.

Constance opened the fridge door and retrieved 2 eggs, she cracked them against the bowl and Addy watched as the yolk slid down the translucent object. She jumped up excitedly and ran towards her mother, grabbing the wooden spoon and stirring the mixture.

"We haven't baked in so long!" She beamed, subconsciously ignoring her mother's hard gaze, "I can't wait to eat them, they'll taste like sunshine just as like they did when me and Tate made them."

Constance snatched the spoon from her and pushed her roughly to the side. Addy almost tripped over her own feet but just managed to catch the chair. She rolled her eyes and sat down; crossing her legs politely like her mother had insisted she do, like a _proper _lady.

She fidgeted, trying to distract herself but her eyes widened when her mother grabbed the rat poison and poured it into the bowl. Her breath hitched and Constance turned round, a guilty smile flashing across her face.

"You don't want Tate to be alone forever, do you?"

Addy shook her head, "No mummy, but he's not alone, he has us, and he has pretty girl now."

"Violet!" He mother roared, raising her hand and Addy flinched waiting for the fatal blow but Constance just sighed and lowered her hand, "Pretty girl's name is _Violet. _And she isn't _pretty. _Just because she's 'normal' doesn't mean she's a beauty Addy."

Addy wanted to reject her mother's statement but the room full of mirrors flashed across her eyes and she squirmed, remaining silent.

"Violet will grow up, Violet will leave Addy. We will die soon, Tate lives forever. I am not subjecting my boy to a fate filled with isolation. Now," She smiled sweetly and held the bowl under Addy's nose, "Spit in it."

* * *

><p>Violet's vision was blurred, an oval, pale shape swam into focus and she instantly raised her hands to bat it away. Green colours swayed all around her, forming into one solid pastel, returning her vision to normal.<p>

She was in her bedroom, her eyes darted from the posters of Led Zeppelin on the left and David Bowie on the right. She tried to remember what had happened before the pain which had now made her body numb, but, she couldn't. She only remembered Tate's face.

"Thank God Violet!" A voice cried and she glanced forwards.

Tate's face was streaked with damp tears and his eyes were red and swollen from constant rubbing. She wanted to comfort him but confusion held her brain captive like a black cloud.

"I don't understand," Tate whispered, "You were fine. _We_ were fine-"

"We're still fine you idiot," She muttered and smiled at him when he looked taken aback.

Slowly, he smiled to.

"How did I get here? I swear we were outside?"

"I carried you," Tate said sheepishly, "I didn't want you to wake up on the floor."

Violet tried to stop the blush from entering her already warm cheeks, "Classic. Any excuse you boy's get to put a girl in bed."

Tate grabbed the edge of her bed frame, willing her to notice how serious he was, "It wasn't like that. I wouldn't do that. I couldn't do that. Not to you Violet."

She rolled her eyes and laughed at him. Told him it was a joke and that he should lighten up, but, he still looked at ease, still reacted as if she was a scared animal as she came closer towards him on the bed.

She rose on her kneecaps so their faces were only inches apart, their breath mingled and Tate inhaled deeply.

-_Your weird sister's right. You've found a pretty girl. Not a beautiful one, but a reasonable one._

_-She's perfect._

_-She was, before you. _

Violet's hand stroked Tate's cheek and curled into his hair, pulling him closer and he let his eyes flutter shut.

Ignoring the darkness.

His light had captured him.

But Violet's soft lips didn't press to his and after several awkward moments he felt her hand disentangle itself and he suppressed a whimper.

"Will you come to the basement with me?" She whispered, scared of his reply.

He nodded eagerly and watched as she hopped from her bed and walked quickly to the door, her hair purposefully hiding her face.

* * *

><p>Violet lit the candle and smiled wickedly at Tate as he did the same. He gulped and her smile grew wider.<p>

Tate watched her, her hair fanning her face, making her look even more angelic, making him realise how dangerous it was that she was down in this basement where so many crimes had been committed.

-_It's selfish to allow her to be down here._

_-You've already controlled her in the bedroom, why not in the basement to? _

The slithering whispers of the house grew louder in his ear and he wanted to scream, to lash out, to coil into a ball and cry, but when Violet looked at him questionably they died down and he sat on the floor opposite her.

"Why do you want to spend time down here?" He asked, gazing at her.

She shrugged her shoulders, "You scared?"

He laughed, "Of course not."

"Good because otherwise I would have had to take the piss. Now, share something with me Tate. Tell me _anything," _His eyes widened at her seductive tone, "That's the reason for the darkness, the flickering of the candles. We're _alone."_

He had to hold in a laugh; he wanted to mock her, to tell her about the irony of her statement.

_-We will never be alone in this house._

_-You will never be alone Tate, you have me. _

She held out her hands, palms up in a gesture of expectation and she smirked. Tate rolled his eyes. He stifled through the images in his head, he couldn't tell her about the dreams of murders he's constantly plagued with.

He didn't want to frighten her.

_-Maybe she'll enjoy them. Maybe you've already made her as twisted as you._

"Constance," Tate blurted, "She's my mother."

_-Nice going. Now you have to tell her about all of your family history, I hope you have the tissues ready. Pathetic. _

Violet gasped, her throat constricting, she looked sympathetic, "You poor thing. She's a cow…uhmm…no offence or anything."

He smiled at her and she relaxed, "None taken. Completely agree, but I don't think cows the right word. Maybe cocksucker would be better? Or just a cunt? There are _many _ways to describe my stupid excuse of a mother."

"My mother's weak," Violet said, "My Dad cheated on her and she's still with him. This charade she's playing is ridiculous. We're not perfect, we've _never_ been perfect."

Tate leaned over, rage filling him, he wanted to kill her father, the disgusting excuse for a human being.

"If you love someone," Tate whispered, holding Violet's gaze, "You should never hurt them."

_-IRONY!_

_-I didn't love her then._

_-IRONY!_

_-I DIDN'T LOVE HER THEN!_

_-Do you love her now?_

"Cheaters should die. There's no point being in a relationship if you're just going to fuck someone else. And, the worst part is, she's only a couple years older then me."

"That's fucking perverted."

"I know. I can't believe I'm related to him."

"It's the worst thing, knowing their blood courses in your veins. That's why I used to cut; I wanted Constance's blood out of me. It was tainted. It made me tainted."

"You could never be tainted," Violet's eyes remained on the flame by her feet.

Tate's eyes snapped up and the glow of the candlelight reflected the red blush on Violet's cheeks, warming it up, making him ache to touch it, to touch _her. _

He didn't know what he was doing until he did it, until the door banged open above them and he withdrew his caressing hand from her face.

He heard her father's footsteps coming down the stairs, it was unmistakably him and Tate had to keep himself rooted to the ground, to stay visible despite that fact that his senses were telling him to disappear, to not get caught.

This man could sever their relationship.

Violet's eyes remained on the candle, she didn't look at her father who was looming above her, but, her shoulders became stiff and her hands curled into fists at her sides.

Tate wanted to defend her, to leap up and hit his psychiatrist in the face but he ignored the urge, he knew the action would cause her even more pain.

Ben Harmon regarded his daughter for several moments but then he glanced at Tate staring at her too, longing evident in his eyes.

"Tate, what are you doing in here?" Ben tried to keep his voice calm, "I'm sorry, you need to leave, this is wrong, you know that."

Tate staid on the floor, but when Violet raised her head to look at him and mouthed at him to leave he rose. He came face to face with her father, stared at him icily, wanting him to feel fear, but when the Doctor just blinked, feigning boredom, Tate moved to the side.

He approached the stairs and made sure neither of them was looking before turning invisible and returning to Violet's side, he hoped his disguised presence would give her some strength.

_-She can't sense you, you bloody idiot. _

Ben ran his hands through his hair, exhaling a deep breath, "What are you doing Violet? Is this to get back at me? Make me worry about you? Make me think I've sent you over the edge that now your only form of companionship can be found in a boy who has a chemical imbalance, who has delusions? Who isn't safe to be around?"

Violet's back stiffened; she became a statue at her father's description of Tate, "What happened to patient confidentiality _Doctor Harmon?"_

"Just promise me Violet," He kneeled on the floor beside her, begging her, "Don't see that boy again, he isn't _right."_

Tears slid down Tate's cheeks. He knew he was going to kill this man, tonight. Without Violet, he would have no light to stop him.

Violet raised her hand and Tate almost materialised to stop her from creating the purple bruise on her father's face.

Her hand connected with Ben's cheek and he staggered backwards, clutching at his face wildly, finding it impossible to be angry with the young child in front of him.

It was Violet's turn to stand above her father, to be the dominant one.

"Well," She stuttered, surprised by her violent reaction, she didn't know she had felt such protection for the boy she had just met, "Clearly there isn't something quite _right _with me either."

She left her father on the ground, not offering an apology or a helping hand. She simply strode past him, her head held high.

Her hands shaking.

_(2 hours later.)_

Her Dad had wanted to escape the humiliation she had caused him, the guilt within his self and the anger towards Tate Langdon, the one that had transformed his beautiful daughter into a monster.

Violet had watched with satisfaction when her Dad had walked up the basement stairs and asked her Mum to see a movie with him. Such a normal gesture.

Such a _fake _gesture.

Vivian had looked taken aback, asked him what had happened to his face and Violet had held in a bitter laugh as his eyes flashed to meet hers. He lied, said he had fallen over and Vivian seemed satisfied as she left with him.

Violet had immediately rushed to her father's office, he was such a predictable man, his keys to his patient's files were under the mat and she briefly questioned what Tate would think of her invading his privacy.

But as she grabbed his file she realised she didn't care.

Tate had never discussed even going to see her father for help, maybe he believed it was obvious, maybe he thought if she was intelligent that she would figure it out. But to her, it appeared like he didn't trust her.

_Why can he open up to an adulterer and not his own friend?_

_Is that all you are?_

_I don't know._

_You're a frigid little girl. _

Violet mentally told her conscious to shut up; she didn't want to be contaminated with images of her nightmares, especially not now whilst she was all alone in the murder house.

She swung her legs over the chair and nestled into its pillow, as if she was doing a little bit of light reading. One section of notes was marked with the date that the Harmon's had moved in:

_Patient is delusional. Believes that murders can be justified, that he's sending people to a better place. Twisted outlook on the world. Maternal relationship is negative. Refers to own mother as a 'cocksucker'. Possible abandonment of father figure has greatly affected his self esteem. _

Violet flicked the page, trying not to feel sympathy for the boy she had known for less then a month. But she couldn't control her emotions, she felt sorry for Tate, any child rose by Constance would turn out to be a psychopath in her opinion.

The mention of his father instantly made her recoil, she had spoken so ill of her Dad, but, at least he was still around. Tate had nothing, she was beginning to feel immature and naïve and almost threw the folder across the room but another date made her pause and she bit her nails as she read on:

_Chemical imbalance is less evident. Mentions a girl in a sexual manner. Refuses to share any personal information about her. Describes her as an angel which he has infected. Fear of rejection and self infliction apparent. When asked about' sending her to a better place' he says he could never harm her, that he's selfish. He desires this girl. Believes she is his 'light'._

Violet closed the book with a snap.

Threw it across the room.

Her hands clung to her hair as she sobbed.

_-He's talking about me._

_-He loves you. Who would do that? He must be insane._

_-I can't love him._

_-You're a scared little selfish bitch._

_-I want to love him._

_-You're a coward. Give yourself to him. _

Tate's face was damp; the tears had clung to his skin, igniting sadness and despair within him as he watched his light read his file, watched as she read the parts about her, the parts which unmasked his true feelings.

And he watched as she took the razor and sliced it across her skin.

He followed her shamelessly to her room and sat opposite her bed, her face sparkling with the tears which had remained.

_-How foolish were you to believe she could ever feel anything remotely like love for you? _

He left the question unanswered. Not wanting to provoke the darkness, wanting to be left alone.

-_I'll never leave you. _

The covers were pulled over Violet and he heard her faint mutters. He approached the bed carefully, not wanting to be discovered. She was inquisitive; it wouldn't matter if he was cloaked by the house.

She would know.

"I want to love him. Why can't I?" She was sobbing, "What's wrong with me?"

_-Awwww ain't that sweet?_

Tate wiped his face, his hands shaking with happiness; he reached for the duvet, to confide in her, to tell her he would wait _forever _for her. That she was perfect and that if there was something wrong with her it was his own fault.

His hands froze when he heard her sharp little gasps, saw her duvets clinging tighter to her body. He heard her scream.

Breathy screams began to fill his head and he backed away in horror, his hands clamping down over his ears as he shook his head back and forth. Back and forth.

He backed into the corner of her room and collapsed on the floor.

All happiness forgotten.

Guilt had taken over.

She would never be with him because of him. He had taken the ability away from her.

She thrashed against her covers, trying to release herself and sobs shook his entire body as he held himself tighter, his face going pale.

_-Watch Tate Langdon, as the nightmares you created begin. _

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><p><em><strong>Phew...FINALLY got this chapter out of the way. We see what Constance's planning, see Violet struggle more with intimacy issues but realise she feels something for Tate and a certain Mr Harmon isn't impressed in the slightest with their relationship, it's only gonna get more heated from here on, I have a few ideas but now I've built the basics of the storyline hopefully I can make this story better :) Please R&amp;R and tell me if you want more characters introduced, if you want more Tate bits etc, thank you so much for R&amp;R-ing, its you guys who keep me going with this very strange story! XD x<strong>  
><em>


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh golly! I really can't thank you all enough for the encouragment and support, its so amazing reading your feedback! Thank you! Hope you continue to R&R, you guys keep me writing! XD 3 I was watching AHS the other day (I swear I watch it**_** ALL** _**t****he time****!) and oh god, when he asked if Violet could forgive him I almost balled like a baby (I swear**** I always get tissues ready for AHS **_ALL_** the time as well) **_  
><em>

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><p><em>(The next day.)<em>

_Are you going to answer the door?_

The knock echoed louder, quick sharp hits on the wooden front door that pounded into Violet's head. She puffed out the smoke she had been inhaling and stamped out her cigarette on the widow ledge.

She crept down the stairs slowly, hoping that the person would just give up and suspect that no one was in.

"Violet darling," A feminine voice cooed, "I have a present for you."

Violet grasped the door handle and halted.

_-Can I really allow entrance to Tate's evil disgrace of a mother?_

She froze at the idea of Tate walking in on them, assessing their fake pleasantries as a form of friendship. He'd feel betrayed. If she was truly his light she shouldn't associate herself with his darkness.

She shook her head and removed her hand, just as she was about to turn her back to the door she heard an instantly recognisable childlike voice join Constance's.

"Violet mother-," She heard a slapping sound from behind the door and a muffled cry.

She instantly threw the door open, expecting a bleeding Addy and a disgusted Constance, but instead found Addy with her arms crossed, her face dancing with indignation and Constance handing her a tray filled with chocolate cupcakes.

"I me-mea-mean, "Addy stuttered, trying to overcome her tears, "_I _made them, f-f-f-for you."

Violet hesitantly took the tray from Constance and flashed Addy a smile which she returned. She wanted to invite Tate's sister in but with that invitation Constance would follow and nose around, trying to invade her and Tate's little bubble of privacy, or worse, she'd realise that Tate had an infatuation for her and would try to end it.

_Don't you want that? For him to leave you? He's fucked up, obsessed. He's wrong. _

Before Violet could thank them and close the door Constance pushed past her, removing her gloves and shoving them in her pocket as she surveyed the house.

Violet rolled her eyes as Constance ushered Addy to join her and slammed the door shut.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Violet offered, hoping they would engage in small talk before Constance realised how boring she was and leave.

"Milk. Two sugars," Constance demanded, clicking her fingers and Violet held in an angered breath.

_Two more minutes and I'll decide prison's a better option then this company._

_It'd be so easy, grab the knife to your left. Slice her skin. Tate would thank you._

Violet flicked the kettle on and the water hissed furiously, she kept her back on the mother and daughter, not wanting to watch them stare at her baggy clothing or average face, not wanting them to decide that Tate could do better.

_You're seeking approval from Tate's family? How ridiculous can you get? You're not even dating, your way to insecure. He'll find a Barbie doll slut soon, one that'll satisfy him._

She heard feet hitting the floor and whipped around to see Addy struggle out of her mother's grasp and run down the corridor. Violet's eyes followed her until she was out of sight, descending down the stairs which led to the basement. She looked at Constance who merely shrugged and told her brashly not to worry, but, there were lines crinkling the old woman's forehead.

When the tea was finally made she gave it to Constance whose fingers lingered on the china cup. She sat opposite her and the woman pushed the tray towards her, smiling gently.

Violet felt like she was going to be sick.

Her hand moved towards the nearest cup cake, wanting to show her gratitude before asking the old crow to leave. The cake rose to her lips and Constance's smile widened.

Yet Violet swore that she saw her face became more constricted and guilt dancing behind her eyes.

Before the soft moisture could touch Violet's lips the cake was flung out of her hand and landed with a soft thud on the floor.

Tate stood before her, sweat plastered his forehead as he gazed at her, he grabbed her face his hands, "Are you ok?"

Addy was beside him, holding on to his sleeve, cringing away from her mothers murderous stare.

Violet flinched away from Tate and batted away his shaking hands, "I'm fine. What's your problem Tate? Seriously, it was _just _a cake."

Tate reached out for her once more but she was becoming distressed and his hand limply fell to his side and he glanced at his mother, hatred burning through out him.

"Violet, can you go upstairs for a second? I need to speak to that creature over there," His voice was dangerous and she almost did what he asked.

"This is my house you know," She muttered, arms folded over her chest.

"She is quite right Tate," Constance muttered, rising from her seat and trying to move past Tate who blocked her way, she sighed but took a fearful step back and Violet decided it was best to retreat to her room.

Tate was beginning to scare her.

"You don't want to make a scene in front of your little girlfriend do you?" Constance smirked.

Tate's hands curled into his fists but Addy grabbed them and flattened them out, whispering, "You're scaring the pretty girl."

He watched Violet stare at them and hoped his eyes were conveying the depth of his begging; he needed her to leave. He didn't want her to witness his darkness uncoil and unleash itself.

She turned on her heel and stormed upstairs, shutting the door loudly behind her.

* * *

><p>"You've sunk to new lows <em>Mother," <em>Tate whispered, circling her.

"I did it for you," She said, tears shining in her eyes as she grasped Tate's hands, "I don't want you to be alone honey."

He shoved her backwards and she knocked over the china cup, it fell to the floor with a crash and Tate waited for Violet to come downstairs and yell about vandalising.

But he heard no noise, just a pathetic excuse of a child carrier muttering, "Damn, I wanted that as well."

"So," Tate murmured into her ear, "Not only were you going to _murder_ an innocent girl," his fingers found her neck and she gasped, "You were going to steal from her grieving family as well?"

Before Constance could mutter a sarcastic reply his hands closed over her throat and lifted her from the ground. Addy suppressed a scream and Tate's grip slackened.

"Leave Addy. Now!"

She scrambled away from the scene, reaching the stairs and heading to the next floor. Tate hoped she would hide but he knew she was going to _'pretty girl.'_

_Maybe you should kill both of them. _

_Addy's pure. She's the only person to ever love me._

_Does Violet Harmon not love you?_

_She can't._

_._

_Of course not. You've fucked her up, literally. Do you feel guilt when you look at her? Why didn't you let Constance poison her? Then you'd have forever repenting for your sins. _

"Why is it that you try _every _single fucking time to diminish anything good in my life?"

"You're being ridiculous," Constance laughed uncomfortably, fanning herself as if bored, masking her terror.

But Tate felt it radiating off of her and he consumed it, letting it build even more.

* * *

><p>Violet pushed her hair from her face, scraping it back into a bun as she buried her head in her pillow and screamed.<p>

No one heard her.

No one ever did.

She could hear scrambling downstairs and she hated herself for feeling sorry for Constance, the woman was conceited, that was certain but perhaps she had been trying to show her gratitude for Violet's involvement with her son.

_I bet your regretting that involvement now. I bet he's suffocating her downstairs, digging his nails into her flesh, squeezing the life out of her. _

_Tate isn't a monster._

_You don't know him. _

She heard the door open with a soft click and automatically sat up, hope filling her; maybe it was Tate coming to apologize.

Violet just managed to hold in a groan as Addy took a step into her room, looking around her excitedly despite the tears which were trailing down her cheeks.

Violet ignored them.

She grinned at Addy, "Hey," She motioned for Addy to sit beside her on the bed, "Wanna hang out? Those two could be a while."

Addy nodded her head enthusiastically, staring at Violet until the girl shifted uncomfortably.

"Can you make me pretty like you Violet?" She stared shyly at her.

Violet sighed, "Just because those girls in the media don't know how to eat and are covered in make up doesn't mean they're beautiful, they're just conventional idiots."

Addy cocked her head to the side, confusion clouded her face and before Violet could explain she asked her the same question again.

Violet nodded numbly and reached for her hair brush.

She ordered Addy to turn her back to her and began combing her hair, Addy watched herself cheerfully in the mirror, hoping to soon be transformed into a princess.

"Is Tate your boyfriend?"

Violet stopped the motion of the hair brush and Addy watched her expression in the mirror, a smirk stretching across her face.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes."

Violet laughed lightly and placed the hair brush on the vanity table before Addy, she was glad for that thing for once, her mother had been right, it did help bond females together, no matter how stereotypical.

"We're not dating, I don't think he-"

"He _likes _you," Addy stated as Violet applied blusher to her cheeks and she closed her eyes, liking the feel of make up covering her skin.

"He's never _liked_ anyone before," Addy whispered and then imitated Tate's voice, "Most girls are fucked up sluts and those who possess a slight bit of sanity waste it on trying to fit in with the others."

_You are the girl. The one in his psychiatrists file. Your fathers file. How fucking poetic._

"He's got a point."

"But he doesn't talk about you like that."

"I bloody hope not."

Addy laughed cheerfully as Violet put mascara on her eyelashes, Violet smiled warmly at her, "He loves you. I knew Tate would find a pretty girl. I just _knew _it."

Violet froze but Addy didn't seem to notice.

_His own sister just told you that he loves you and you become a mute. Now, that's a rather strange reaction. Unrequited love much? _

_It's not unrequited. _

_You don't believe her._

_I don't believe I have the ability to love._

_He'll leave you. No boy will stay with you if you aren't willing to give them what they want. And you'll never be ready. You're to fucking frigid. _

"Are you still a virgin?"

Violet hesitated, just managing to stop her nightmares from reaching the surface and shook her head, but doubt was still filling her. She asked Addy the same question and she instantly told her that she wasn't. Violet laughed but still felt uneasiness.

_Let them in. Confront your fear._

_I can't._

_You truly are a coward._

_I'm not afraid of anything!_

_You're afraid of yourself. _

They sat in silence after that as Violet coated Addy's lips a deep rouge.

"Open your eyes," Violet whispered softly.

Addy took in her appearance, her rosy red lips, her glowing cheeks, her darker eyelashes, the curls within her hair, and she burst into tears. Violet put an awkward arm around her and wondered what she had done wrong.

"I'm beautiful Violet!" Addy smiled through her tears.

"You've always been beautiful," A warm laughing voice came from the door and both females rose to greet Tate.

He was leaning against the doorframe, surveying the scene, watching as Violet made his sister happy in a way no one else had. She had given Addy what she most wanted, _fake _beauty.

Addy giggled and ran into Tate's open arms, he picked her up and spun her around the room, Violet couldn't help but join their infectious laughter.

"Constance is leaving, you need to go Addy," Tate whispered in her ear and Addy immediately stiffened and let out a frustrated sigh.

She whirled around to wave goodbye to Violet and as Tate strode further into the room Addy looked pointedly between them before raising her eyebrows and running away.

They sat silently for a few minutes as Tate watched Violet avoid his gaze, she started fidgeting and he leaned forward slightly, "I'm sorry. You know parental issues. Enough to drive anyone insane."

Violet didn't answer him, his proximity was too close, but, after Addy's revelations she wanted to touch him, feel his skin on hers.

_He love's me. _

Tate misinterpreted her silence and stood to leave but Violet instantly grabbed his hand and he flinched from the unexpected contact.

_Maybe he doesn't. _

"I'm sorry," Violet whispered, staring at the ceiling, "I never should have – It's just Addy told me that – Actually don't mind, it doesn't matter."

"It's the truth," He muttered, bending down on the floor so he was face to face with her on the bed, "None of what she said was a lie."

She smiled and reached out to stroke his cheek, he moaned softly when she caressed his face. She leant forward slightly, wishing she had the confidence to go forward with her plan.

_Better hurry. Boy's emotions are like a ticking bomb. He'll wake up soon and realise your not nearly attractive enough to satisfy him. _

A sob ripped through Violet's body and Tate grabbed her hands, "Hey, I know it's hard for you, you don't need to-"

"I don't want to be like this anymore Tate," She cried and grabbed his hair, pushing his lips towards her.


	5. Chapter 5

**I really hope you all like this chapter, Tate & Violet kinda getting it on, I hope you don't think its to soon or anything but I wanted to push their relationship forward and its up to your interpretation on whether Violet loves Tate or if she's trying to 'prove' something to herself. Tell me what you think in reviews! :D Also, thank you all sooooo much for the lovely feedback, really encouraging and amazing to read, keep doing your th-ang XD ****And, totally unrelated to this, but holy crap I saw Constance in The Vow film yesterday! ... Yet again playing a Mother who wants a perfect family. WAY to creepy...**

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><p>Her lips touched his and his hands balled into fists at his sides, restraining him from touching her, from freaking her out.<p>

He was unresponsive against her, waiting for her to gasp and scuttle to the edge of her bed, demanding he leave and never return.

Telling him to go away.

She released her grip on him and withdrew slowly; their faces mere inches apart and her eyes searched his, rejection and hurt filling them.

"I thought you wanted this," She whispered, her hands still clutched his hair and he felt them shake.

"I do-"

"Then why-"

"But I don't want this….thing…. to be about you proving something to yourself."

Her hands fell from his hair and rested lightly on his shoulders. She leaned her face towards him again and her hair fell from behind her ear and he hesitantly pushed it back. His hand lingered on her cheek and she moaned softly, closing her eyes as he drew soothing circles with his thumb.

_Are you trying to make this a beautiful moment? _

She peeked through her lashes at him and smiled briefly. He noticed the tears in her eyes but before he managed to pull away she got off of her bed and kneeled next to him.

_There's no beauty in the world for a monster._

Violet raised on her knees slightly so she could reach him, her arms slowly went around his neck as he remained still.

"I want this," She muttered and pressed her lips to his.

This time he didn't refuse her and gently moved his mouth with hers, his hands snaked around her waist and pulled her into his chest softly.

_Why are you being so gentle? _

She felt his tongue push into her mouth and tenderly roam, she moaned deeply and his grip tightened, she felt his erection against her and instantly pushed away from him.

Her head smacked against the bed and she blinked up at him slowly; he was half way across the room, crouching, hands behind his back to keep him balanced.

_Take her like you did before. Don't you like it when she resists you?_

Tate's eyes glazed black and she let out a small gasp, the sound snapped him back to his senses and he came to sit next to her. She didn't move away from him, didn't flinch when his arm went around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry."

"Hey," He soothed, looking at her; she avoided his gaze, "It's alright, no need to apologize," He laughed slightly and she glared at him, he shrugged, "I'm quite happy with how that went actually."

"Oh really?" She asked sarcastically, "I'm sure that's exactly what you had in mind when making out with a girl."

"Technically, that wasn't making out."

"Shut up!"

He smirked and she rolled her eyes whilst removing his arm from around her, she stood up and turned round, he was pouting as she took out a cigarette from her pocket and went to the window ledge.

"Don't you ever worry about your parents seeing?" He asked her, and when she looked at him as if he was a child he explained, "Your Dad will have you in therapy."

"It's only a matter of time," Violet whispered, watching the sun disappear behind the clouds.

_-It's my turn to play now. _

She shuddered at the whispery tendrils in her brain.

_I'm truly insane. _

"What do you mean by that?"

Violet remained silent and Tate's guilt increased, she was still a girl. A girl sitting on a window ledge looking out at the beauty of the world, secretly wanting to be a part of it; it's main star.

_Holy shit. What the fuck's got in to you? The world is fucked up, not beautiful. Jeesh, you're like a typical puppy dog. _

_But she's in the world. _

_She won't be for long._

The moonlight framed her body as she turned round and hopped off of the ledge, flicking the cigarette out of the window.

She climbed into her bed and pulled the covers around her, when Tate staid on the floor motionless she grabbed his shoulders and tried to hoist him up. He laughed nervously before sitting opposite her.

Only her head peaked from the fortress of pillows and blankets she had created in order to separate them.

_- How much more would she have allowed you to do if you hadn't forced her? Doesn't it torment you? Make you wonder what could have been if you weren't such a pervert? _

"Because," She muttered, "I think I'm losing it Tate."

_I bet she would have moaned into your mouth. Her hot little pants tickling your ear._

"Jesus Tate! I just told you I think I'm loosing my sanity and you ignore me?"

_- She would have separated her legs at her own accord. She would have been so tight, so perfect. Now, she'll just be a quivering mess. _

"You're a fucking jerk."

_- I bet if you do ever manage to get your pathetic excuse for a dick in that mess that she'll realise it was you. _

"TATE!"

He shook his head vigorously and Violet retreated further back on the bed, but finally he stopped and looked at her, "Your to strong to lose it."

"Did you just space out on me?" She demanded, grabbing a pillow from her pile and throwing it at him, he caught it easily and put it behind his head as he leaned against the bed frame.

"No, it's just..." He searched for a reason, shrugging when he finally found one, "No one's ever told me that before…well, at least about themselves."

"People have called you crazy?" Violet asked, trying to ignore the memory of his files.

He just nodded. Twiddled his thumbs.

"Why do you think you're crazy?"

She looked at the space above his head, tears forming in her eyes as she embarrassingly muttered, "I'm frigid."

His eye's snapped to hers and she shrugged her shoulders, wishing she'd never confided in him.

_Girls just don't know when to keep their big fat mouths shut. He's definitely going to leave you now. _

"Just because you have class and don't fuck every guy in town doesn't mean you're frigid."

"I was never like this before you know-"

"You've done what we've just done before?" Tate asked, trying to keep the envious anger inside, he wanted to strangle who ever had touched her inappropriately, he wanted to –

_Watching you strangle yourself should be quite entertaining. _

Violet put her head in her hands and peeked up at him shyly, "A lady never tells."

Tate relaxed and raised an eyebrow at her, "You know, I was joking before, that could have _definitely _be classified as making out."

Violet rolled her eyes, "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

They heard the front door open downstairs and Tate almost fell off the bed in shock; Violet merely shook her head at him, smiling slightly as she heard her parents footsteps come up the stairs and quickly turned off her bedside lamp.

"Drama queen," She hissed as he scuttled to her closet and shut himself in before Violet's bedroom door opened.

"Oh good your awake," Vivian cooed, flicking on the light, and, taking in Violet's fortress of cushions, hesitated, "Well," She stated, "That's interesting."

"Not really," Violet muttered, her eyes trying to stay clear of the closet but betraying her every several moments.

"You haven't made your 'castle' thing since you were four and were scared the Teletubbies would find you and eat you."

Violet's cheek grew dark as she faintly heard Tate stifle a giggle, she glanced at her mother quickly, but she was unaware, reminiscing Violet's embarrassing moments.

Violet could have punched her.

"That _was_ scary," She huffed, folding her arms and staring at her mother indignantly, "I'd be on TV if they ate me."

Vivian laughed and stroked Violet's hair, but she flinched and Vivian put her fingers under Violet's chin, making her meet her eyes.

"What are you having nightmares about now?"

Tate shuddered within the confines of the cupboard, his ear pressed to the door, his dead heart pumping fast throughout his body, causing sweat to pour down his already tearful face.

"I'm not," He heard Violet snap and her mothers sigh soon followed.

"I'm your mother; you can be a little girl around me."

Violet barked out a cruel laugh, "I had to grow up ages ago, remember _mother?"_

Tate watched through the crack of the door as Vivian ran her hands threw her hair before standing up, she faced away from Violet for a moment before turning to look at her briefly.

She exited slowly and Violet's bedroom door clicked softly behind her.

Violet rolled her eyes when Tate emerged from his hiding place, grinning from ear to ear.

"The Teletubbies?" He smirked, "_Really_?"

Violet didn't answer and rolled on to her side, her hands clenching the pillows tightly, trying not to cry.

"Did your mother touch a nerve?" Tate asked gently, approaching the bed.

"I still have nightmares," Violet whispered and Tate took a step back.

_- You've plagued her even in her sleep. Well done, mission truly accomplished. _

_I'll help her; I'll cure her of them._

_Like you planned to cure everyone else in 1994? That went well…._

"What can I do to help?" He muttered and she turned slowly to face him, half her face deep within the pillow.

She truly looked like an innocence girl.

_Typical. You didn't ask her what the nightmares were about. Coward._

_I already know._

_No excuse, you're a selfish, heartless bastard. You've condemned another soul in this house already._

_She may not be pregnant._

"Hold me," She murmured, flipping her duvets over her so that he could climb in.

He grinned slowly and took off his shoes before lying next to her. His hands remained at his sides and he gazed at her. She looked uncomfortable and moved closer to him; her hands circled his arm, pulling it around her as she nestled into him.

_Touch her, I dare you._

Her head leaned on his chest and he kissed her forehead, she parted her lips in a contented sigh and he turned his head away from temptation.

_Do it, now. Otherwise you'll have to be a pervert in her sleep. _

"Do you mind," Violet whispered, "Staying with me tonight?"

"Of course not."

They didn't speak after that and Tate watched as Violet went into a deep slumber. He stroked her hair occasionally, pushing it away from her face so he could see her clearer. Every single perfection that made her face he memorised, wanting to stay like this forever.

_She thrashes every night. Bet your looking forward to that._

Tate stiffened, he hadn't considered that. How would Violet react when she woke, screaming, panting, crying to find him beside her?

_I'll survive it. She needs me._

He remained there all night, and when Violet finally woke at 7am he sighed in relief. Violet blinked up at him, confusion momentarily clouding her face. She reached up and stroked his cheek.

"I didn't have any nightmares."

Tate beamed down at her and she laughed, bouncing up into a sitting position and hugging him excitedly.

_That's the first time since I moved here._

_Maybe he's good for you._

She grabbed his face in her hands and crashed her lips to his. His arms snaked around her waist and lifted her so that her body was laid across his, her tongue pushed into his mouth and he groaned deeply as she straddled him.

He could feel her smile against his mouth and he writhed when Violet bent to his neck and sucked. Her tongue made small delicate circling patterns and he pressed her body even closer to his.

She raised her head and smirked at him, then, time froze.

Her smirk was radiant as she gazed down at him, her face void of any past horror, but then her eyes became blurry, tears welled up and her smile faded, replaced with a grimace as she put her hands to her mouth.

Violet ran from Tate, almost falling over in her haste to get to the bathroom, she didn't have time to close the door; she just bent over the toilet and grasped the sides as she let the sick pour out of her.

Her hair plastered her face as she pushed away the angry tears of embarrassment. She grabbed the toilet paper and wiped her mouth, throwing it into the toilet and flushing.

She hugged her shoulders and padded back to her room. Her whole body shook as she raised her eyes to stare at Tate.

But the bed was empty.


End file.
